Extraterrestrial

Chapter 8: released and detained

I slow jogged all the way back to the apartment we shared. He should not be home now so I should have some time to plan my next move. What move exactly? I have no idea. Frustratedly, I grit my teeth as I pushed forward the extra mile.

Anxiously, I surveyed the empty house. Being here doesn't feel the same after remembering the way James had looked like before I knocked out. Looking at his side of the house, I realised I never had the reason to go into his rooms. I hesitated. Suspecting him is one thing, crossing his boundary is another. But nothing stops me as I crossed the threshold and into one of his "work" rooms. The one I saw him going into when he says he's working.

The wooden door swings open unceremoniously to the side as I stepped into his room for the first time. It looked like any other ordinary study or home office space one might have with a large desk placed near a large window and a shelf almost full of books on one side. It was smaller than I expected, decorated minimalistically with a beige couch in the corner.

It looked clean and everything is placed neatly, as if the room is never used. I furrowed my brows. There's nothing on the desk, except a basket of stationery. That's odd.

I expected more to this room, no offense to James. Maybe even just a bit of a mess.

That's when I spotted another door. It was behind the couch almost hidden behind the painting hung over the wall, if it weren't for the soft lights illuminating from the gaps of the doorframe.

With effort, I pushed the couch to the side and there it was. A recessed door handle. It doesn't even lock. I would've thought it was just an unused space kept hidden away. But the lights from within tells another story. Twisting the latch, I opened the door.

To my shock, three screens showed surveillance footage of the house. It covered almost every room, from all angles. Not to mention, there were papers and notes scattered around the small space. My right thumb twitches at the sight before me. There's the mess.

Taking a step forwards, I see that the notes pinned on a board shows pictures of me from my driver's license. Identification number, blood type, every single detail that one could have pinned and taped to the board. I released a gasp and took an involuntary step backwards. Glancing at the main screen in the middle of the three screens, I covered my mouth in disbelief. It was focused on my bedroom.

"Wh-", was all I could get out before I was hit in the head from behind.

***

Blinking my eyes open, crusty from being asleep for awhile, it takes me awhile to gather my surroundings. I'm in an unfamiliar room. A sense of panic rushes forwards as I tried to get up but quickly realised that both my hands and feet were tied up.

Struggling from my position on the floor, I sat up and the door to the room flies open. In walks James dragging a chair and placing it near me but not near enough that I could touch him. "What the fuck-"

"Save your breath." He leans forward. I flinched away from him, readying myself for a hit to the face but he smooths my hair away from my face instead. Steepling his fingers while resting his hands above his knees his expression doesn't reveal much. "Don't make this harder than it is. I'm sorry it had to come to this. I wasn't expecting you to find out this way." He says in a low, quiet tone.

Quizzically, I tilted my head as I regarded him, "who are you?"

"Wrong question." He says in a solemn tone, my impression of the kind stranger gone from my mind.

"Fuck you, dude. What do you want from me? Are you a fucking stalker?"

"No. Look, you don't get it. You're sick- well, no, actually... The opposite of that. I'm sure you've noticed by now. You're getting stronger. Your body is improving itself in ways you couldn't possibly im-" he gets cut off by a ringing tone, his phone going off in his jean pocket. He takes a quick look at the caller ID and turns back to me.

His face void of any expression. Almost monotonously he tells me, "stay put and do as I say. If everything goes smoothly, I'll let you go." Then he stands up to leave.

Fear restricts my heart, "no! Wait! Don't leave me here! James!"

All I got in response is the sound of the door closing behind him.

***

The next hour was spent struggling in my restraints. Convinced that I could loosen the ropes tied around my wrists loose, I kept twisting and turning. Until my skin turns red and raw. So much for my "body getting stronger". "Fuck."

It hurts and it's still too tight for me to wriggle free. To make matters worse, There's nothing in this room except the white fluorescent light in the ceiling and the cctv in the corner of the room. The walls are white and barren, floors tiled with the standard white square tiles in the rooms of the rest of the apartment. There are no windows. The only way in or out is through the same door. The only solace I find is the fact that I'm still within the confines of the same apartment. I glowered at the camera.

I could only lay on my side because of how my hands are tied behind my back. Groaning at the discomfort of my shoulder and hip, I rolled myself into a fetal position. My body is going numb. With nothing else to occupy my mind after failing to escape, I'm starting to really despise my captor. Peeking at the camera again, I stared at its red blinking light.

How did it come to this? I never thought my judgment in character could be so skewed that I'd mistake a stranger's actions for kindness. I should have seen this coming. I suspected that something was off but never had any solid evidence to pin the suspicions to. With how everything was going, it would've been sheer dumb luck for me to encounter such kindness without some kind of catch.

It dawns on me that my gut instincts had been right the entire time. Feeling the rush of relief at finally getting something right in the series of so many wrongs, I sat up with my fighting spirit renewed.

A burst of energy surges in me and before I knew it, I'd wrenched my hands free of the ropes. Looking at my arms in surprise, I see the familiar green in my veins. Without much effort, I pulled my legs apart and the ropes snapped. Each thick strand, torn apart as though I had cut them with a pair of scissors.

I stood up in utter disbelief but now is not the time to marvel at such things. I guess he wasn't lying after all. My eyes snapped at the door in determination.